We thank thee, O our Father

We thank thee, O our Father,
for all thy loving care;
we thank thee that thou madest
the world so bright and fair.
We thank thee for the sunshine,
and for the pleasant showers;
and O, our God, we thank thee,
we thank thee for the flowers.

Out in the sunny meadows
and in the woodlands cool,
upon the breezy hillside,
and by each reedy pool,
and in the quiet pasture,
and by the broad highway;
all pure and fresh and stainless,
they spring up every day.

And in the dusty city,
where busy crowds pass by,
and where the tall dark houses
stand up and hide the sky;
and where through lanes and alleys
no pleasant breezes blow,
e'en there, O God, our Father,
thou mak'st the flowers grow.

And whether in the city
or in the fields they dwell;
always the same sweet message
the fair, sweet flowers tell.
For they are all so wondrous,
they show thy power abroad;
and they are all so beauteous,
they tell thy love, O God.